


Fight to the Finish

by AdventuresInWriting



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra, Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Gen, Major Original Character(s), Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-30
Updated: 2017-06-28
Packaged: 2018-10-25 22:48:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10774092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdventuresInWriting/pseuds/AdventuresInWriting
Summary: For the kids of Republic City, pro-bending isn't a sport; it's a way of life. The privileged ones join a league, fighting in organized tournaments with proper training; the not-so-fortunate slug it out in the streets. Their ramshackle imitation of the sport, street-bending, determines who prospers and who perishes - and those without a team to fight with are the first to go.Ayo, Nia, and Kota are lucky; though forced together by circumstance, they've become a talented team. When an unlucky run-in with the police lands them in hot water, it's an old pro-bending fan that comes to the rescue. Seeing their talent first-hand, he decides to take a chance. It takes skill to survive the harsh, no-rules scuffles of the street - but is it enough to survive in a real league?Set in a post-series Republic City, this story follows the journey of three street-benders as they test their skills against the best and brightest young pro-benders out there, trying to prove once and for all that privilege does not a better bender make.





	1. No-Rules Fight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now revised! And by revised I mean completely rewritten, but still in need of general revision. But enjoy for now.

There’s only one rule in street-bending: there are no rules.  
Which might’ve explained why we were losing so badly.  
“Ayo!” An angry voice called from my left as I frantically ducked and weaved through an onslaught of earth. “Hit the dirt!”  
I dropped without hesitation. Fire roared over my head, quickly followed by its source. The firebender landed with easy grace, and the earthbender targeting me landed flat on his back, hair singed. “Get up. This isn’t over!”  
“More warning next time, Nia!” I popped to my feet and scrambled to cover her back. “You nearly took out me with him! Also, really not the time for earthbending jokes.”  
Another of the opposing team rushed us, water coalescing in a bubble around his hands. Then it separated, slimmed, and hardened into flying ice shards. I raised a rock and shattering filled the air as stone and ice collided. Something flashed beside my face. Wetness trickled down my cheek. Too close.  
“I’ve been saving that one for ages, though!” Despite the chaos of the fight, Nia was still talking. “‘Hit the dirt’, cause you’re an earthbender, but also ‘hit the dirt’, cause you gotta duck! It’s genius!”  
We separated and switched sides, and suddenly I was facing an earthbender again. “It’s hilarious. Genius. A comic masterpiece,” I said, trying to avoid the earth flying at my face. I threw up a low wall for a moment’s respite, breathing heavy, face stinging where sweat had dripped into cuts. “Switch on three?”  
“Three!” Nia shouted, whirling and leaping over my wall to face down the earthbender. I charged the waterbender, who looked startled at Nia’s sudden disappearance.  
He recovered fast, but not fast enough. A rock took him in the stomach, and another in the shoulder. His water splashed onto the ground. The dry earth eagerly soaked it up as he took a knee, one hand clenched to his gut. I threw one last rock, catching him in the temple and sending him sprawling, unconscious. One down.  
I vaulted right over him, bearing down on the cloud of steam that occupied the right half of the ring. Two hazy figures danced within. I summoned more stones and hit the ground, slide-tackling one of the fighters. He hit the ground with a grunt. The flames aimed at my third teammate flew straight up instead.  
“I had that!” She materialized through the fog, already condensing it into water around her hands. A bruise colored her lower jaw.  
“Sorry. Next time I won’t help.” I pushed the firebender off me. A water whip snaked out and grabbed his foot, tripping him up as he tried to stand. “I got this one. Go help-”  
“Kota!” Nia yelled from the other side of the ring, scrambling away from the earthbender on her tail. “Number two! Number two!”  
Kota darted away, taking the steam with her. In our distraction, the firebender had crawled back to his feet. He smiled nastily. “Takes more’n a little water to-”  
“Oi, shut it!” I interrupted. I threw a back kick, which he dodged away from. Flames sputtered to life in his hands.  
“Don’t tell me to shut up!” His voice was high and nasally and outraged. “I’ll end you!”  
“Gotta catch me first!” I darted away. A laughed bubbled up in my throat, drowned out by the rush of fire close behind. “That the best you got?!”  
“Come back! Coward!” The firebender stumbled over his teammate’s unconscious body but didn’t seem to notice.  
I skidded to a sudden stop, whipped around, and used my momentum to chuck a rock the size of my head at his face. It missed by an inch. The firebender sneered as he stalked closer. “Yeah, that’s what I said. Coward!”  
I couldn’t move. My feet wouldn’t. My hands reached for rock, but it wasn’t there. Something came to a boil inside. “Take it back.”  
His sneer deepened. “Coward.”  
“Take it back!”  
“Coward!”  
“Take it-!”  
He stopped just inches from my face. “Coward.”  
“AARGH!” My fists made contact with his gut. Two pillars of stone followed. The firebender’s eyes went wide. He flew back in slow motion. Skidded to a halt on the other side of the ring. And didn’t move.  
Blood thrummed in my ears, roaring like fire. The crowd echoed it, the call of drunk people and petty gamblers. I hadn’t even noticed them until that moment. I’d gotten good at blocking people out to focus on the fight.  
“Two down! Things’re looking up for the girls!” Even worse than the crowd was the announcer, a fat man who’s obnoxious voice carried over the entire house through a homemade megaphone. He was also, coincidentally, the ring’s owner, and the man who always shorted us of our winnings. Anger still stirring in my belly, I flipped him the bird.  
Together, Kota and Nia had cornered the burly earthbender. He was putting up a decent fight, but they worked with the experience of old teammates. All three elements flew, backgrounded by the furious whine of the crowd.  
I hesitated. That wasn’t the crowd. The whine escalated to a shriek, and the scream of sirens broke out from everywhere at once.  
“Shit!” Figures dropped from the ceiling on metal ropes and threw off disguises in the crowd. Metal armor glinted in the low light of the illegal fight ring. I sprinted for my teammates. “Kota, Nia, cops!”  
Kota acted first, grabbing Nia from where she was about to strike the final blow. Bloody and beaten, the earthbender’s small eyes glimmered with fear as they ran. I saw a cop drop to the ground just feet from him.  
“The back!” I switched direction, beelining for the darkest corner of the building. I could tunnel out. Get lost in the streets. Get the money later, after things died down. Just had to get-  
A wall of muscle and metal landed in front of us with a thud. His rope retracted into his belt with a metal whine. I skidded, tried to backtrack, ran into my friends. Two more cops dropped to our right and left.  
“What a surprise,” the first cop said, his voice dripping with disgust. His dark eyes darted over us, taking in our recent injuries and the ragged state of our clothes. “Looks like we got some street rats to bring in.”


	2. A Chance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No semi-revised, including a better ending. More revision and chapters to come!

“Illegal fighting. Illegal betting. Accepting illegal money. Disrupting the peace. Participating in illegal pro-bending fights,” the cop continued to list off our crimes, but my attention wandered away.  
The police station hadn’t changed much since my last visit. Not that it had a lot of time too; I’d been in just a few weeks ago. The same pictures decorated the walls. The same plants sprouted from little pots. The same harried officers and tired secretaries bustled about their business, all stoutly ignoring us and our shouting captor.  
To my left, Nia fidgeted with her cuffs. On my other side, Kota was having a staring contest with the floor. I couldn’t look the cop in the eye, either; his anger reminded me too much of my father’s.  
I could read my friends’ emotions in their bodies. Kota was scared but trying to work up the courage to challenge the cop. Stupid waterbender; she would only make things worse for herself, and no better for us. As it was, she would probably lose her job. And good luck finding another one willing to hire a homeless teenager.  
Nia’s first reaction was anger. Her fists lay clenched in her lap, straining against their cuffs. Her shoulders were tense. I knew her fire was fueled by fear; with no job and no family, she was the most likely to go to jail. Juvenile Detention was no place for anyone, most of all juveniles.  
I didn’t want to think of where I would be going. Maybe with Nia. Or with my father, if he actually showed up. I didn’t know which was worse.  
The cop’s droning voice cut off suddenly, snapping me back to attention. As I focused, I saw that another pair of polished black boot had joined his.  
“Officer. Bo, is it? Who do we have here?” The new cop’s voice was polished and professional. I scowled into my lap; no doubt he was there to make our lives harder.  
“Just some street kids, sir. Caught fighting in an illegal pro-bending ring on the north side of town.” Officer Bo’s voice wavered a bit. “Just teaching them their place.”  
“And where are they going?” The new cop questioned.  
“Uh,” I heard the shuffling of papers. “Juvenile for the firebender. The earthbender has a parent contact, but he hasn’t responded. And we waiting on a response from the waterbender’s legal guardian.”  
“Hm,” the new cop hummed to himself. “Hold all action for now. You three, with me. I’d like a word.”  
It took me a moment to realize he was addressing us. I shared an uncertain glance with Kota, who nodded and stood first. I followed, tugging Nia up with me. The cop had already started walking down the hall. We hesitated, then followed.  
He was sitting behind a messy desk when we crept in. The whole room was a bit of a mess, really. Papers lay haphazardly across the desk and both open chairs, and the wastebasket needed to be taken out. Where there wasn’t paper, there were pictures. Newspaper cuttings, film shots, and fancy photographs cluttered the walls and desk space. For some strange reason, a little metal bowl sat on the edge of the table.  
“So,” the cop said, leaning back in his chair, “Who are you?”  
Silence fell. I didn’t understand what he was asking. Kota shared a similar look. Nia still seemed pissed. “Who’re you?” she fired back.  
The cop smiled. His face was ordinary but strangely familiar, strong-jawed and cast with a five o’clock shadow. His uniform cap sat cocked to one side. For the first time, I noticed something red curled across his shoulders.  
“Nobody, really.” His smile hinted at the exact opposite. “Just another cop, right?”  
“Then we’re just more street kids,” Nia said.  
He laughed at that, a big, true laugh. The red thing on his shoulders chittered and shocked me by sitting up. A fire ferret. “Fair enough,” the officer said. “Fine. I’m Bolin. This is Pabu.”  
Nia pouted, obviously not expecting his real name. Kota placed a hand on her shoulder and stepped forward slightly. “I’m Kota. This is Nia. And Ayo.”  
Bolin nodded and stared at us for a long minute. Kota met his gaze with confidence. I, on the other hand, peered closer at photos on the desk.  
One showed Bolin with another man, thinner and wearing a red scarf. They both looked about ten years younger, in their twenties or so. Another was a newspaper cut-out of a pro-bending team. A second newspaper clipping showed Nuktuk, the old mover hero. The final one, a true photograph, pictured Bolin and the red-scarf guy from before, as well as a pretty woman with black hair and-  
“No way!” Pieces clicked rapidly together. Why Bolin sounded like a familiar name. Where I’d seen his face before. Why his response to Nia sounded like a typical street kid’s answer. “You’re Bolin,” I said, suddenly overcome with something akin to awe. “The Bolin. The pro-bender!”  
Bolin chuckled, face confused but pleased. “Yeah. It’s me. Though I have to say, most people don’t think of pro-bending when they meet me. It’s been awhile since I was in the ring.”  
Kota had followed my train of thought by then. “Of course. You’re friends with the Avatar, right? And you were in the movers.”  
“Oh yeah. Nuktuk: Hero of the South.” Bolin winced, as if he would rather forget about his acting career. “That was interesting.”  
“Yeah, yeah,” I interrupted. “But you were a pro-bender first! The fabulous bending brothers and the Avatar, Fire Ferrets extraordinaire, coming from nothing to be something!” I jabbed the air like I was in a match. Or, tried to - the cuffs ruined it a little bit.  
Bolin grinned, sitting up and resting his chin on one hand. “Yeah, those were the good ol’ days. Kinda miss it sometimes. But-” his demeanor switched, suddenly serious- “we’re talking about you. How long have you been fighting?”  
No one responded. I’d seen this tactic before. He was trying for a confession.  
Bolin read our minds. “I’m not going to prosecute you. I just want to know. One pro-bender to another.”  
A beat, then Nia begrudgingly spoke up. “We’re not pro-benders,” she said. “We’re street-benders. There’s a difference.”  
“Yeah?” Bolin asked. “What’s that?”  
“Pro-benders are legal. And have rules. It’s a game to them. Street-benders,” Nia hesitated, “we fight because we have to. For money. Or survival.”  
“Oh.” Bolin mirrored Nia’s quiet voice. “My mistake. They didn’t have an official term for it in my day.”  
“Yeah well...now you know.” Nia receded back behind Kota, staring stubbornly at the ground. Our waterbender cleared her throat.  
“Uh. We’ve worked as a team for a few years now. Just to get by, you know.” She glanced at me. “You were, what? Thirteen when we met?”  
“Twelve,” I corrected. “Or close enough that it doesn’t matter. I’m fifteen now,” I added for Bolin’s benefit.  
He nodded slowly. One hand absently scratched Pabu’s chin. “Okay. Here’s the deal. I don’t want to see good kids get punished because of bad situations. I’ve been in your shoes. So I’ll pay the fines and get the charges dropped.” I couldn’t believe my ears. It was my birthday come early, only better because I didn’t know my actual birthday and never got gifts anyways.  
“But,” Bolin continued, “I need something from you in return.”  
I exchanged glances with my teammates. There was always a condition.  
“If I do this, there’s every chance you’ll keep fighting until you get caught again. Or worse, until you get hurt.” His eyes lingered on me, and I was suddenly very aware of the cut on my cheek. A few inches higher, and I would’ve been wearing an eyepatch.  
“So,” he said, “Instead of making money in fights, I want you to make money somewhere else. A job, if you will.”  
Kota shifted, glancing from Bolin to the floor. “I have a job. Or I had one. But no one hires street kids. They don’t trust us.”  
“It's...Not quite the job you're thinking of.” Bolin said. He rifled around the papers on his desk and pulled out a colorful flyer. "Take a look.”  
Kota stepped forward to take it. I darted between them and snatched it away, scampering over to Nia. Bold reds and blues covered an illustration of the Pro-bending Arena, where six faceless fighters squared off. A confident team of three stood at the bottom of the page, looking dramatically into the distance.  
"Junior Pro-bending Tournament," Nia read over my shoulder. "Ten thousand - ten thousand yuan pot?!" Her voice pitched upwards excitedly. "You've got to be kidding me. How-!"  
"He is kidding you, Nia," Kota said. She yanked the paper out of my hands and tossed it back on the desk. "Nice try, but I know how those things work. We gotta anty-up our own equipment, not to mention the entrance fee and paperwork to become an official junior team. Do we look like we have that stuff?"   
"No. You don't." Bolin leaned forward in his chair, expression intense. "I didn't either. Not when I first started. So here's the deal,  
"I help you get into the tournament. Equipment, paperwork, entry fee. You fight. Give it your best. Maybe even win. And, in exchange, you three stop living on the streets. Stop 'streetbending'. Deal?"   
Kota glared angrily at Bolin, then gestured for us to circle up. She turned her back to the desk as we huddled close. "I don't like it," she said.   
"You don't like anything!" Nia retorted in an angry whisper. "I say we do it. Ten thousand yuans, Kota! That's enough to set us up for years. What're we gonna lose? Ayo?" She looked to me for support.  
I knew what was smart. Turn it down. Don't accept charity. But if we didn't...What then? Back to the streets, or the slums, or worse. A debt was a dangerous thing, but it was a new dangerous thing. Unlike the streets, whose dangers were very physical. I nodded. "Do it."  
Kota scowled, but couldn't counteract our vote. "Fine," she grumbled. "But if we end up in a shoddy situation, it's your fault."  
We un-huddled and faced Bolin, who sat fidgeting with the flyer. Kota looked left, to Nia, who nodded. Then right, where I gave her a thumbs-up.   
"We're in."


End file.
